Tragic by Circumstance
by DistrictKitten
Summary: Life is full of lessons hard learnt. Violet Boistone: a young girl living in the Seam shares her life, love and loss. Her brother only 9 years old is at no risk from being entered into the 73rd Hunger Games and the odds are quite in her favour but the Capitol must take two tributes and two tributes they will take. OC and real characters. Drama, Family, Friendship and later Romance.
1. Intro: My Life in the Seam

_Note: this intro is optional. Unit it provides a background for the characters. I hope you read on and enjoy. _

I am Violet Boistone, 15 years old. I live with my mother, father and younger brother in the District 12 Seam. My mother works in a tailors in town for an elderly woman who now finds it hard to run her shop on her own. Everyone calls her a bitter spinster but I can't help but see exactly why you wouldn't want to have kids here. Mother says she was beautiful when she was younger and that she remembers her whistling as she measured out fabric for my grandmother to make my mother's dresses from.

My mother's favourite dress was one her mother made her when she was my age, by the time my mum was 15 she was sewing for both her and her siblings but for her birthday my nan made her something more special. It was made with a light, sheeny, floral cotton with lace trim. My mother was always slight until she had a spurt and grew dramatically from age 15-17: the dress no longer fits her and she's been waiting for me to grow into it. I can tell that she hopes I'll grow no more for then it would be wasted.

My brother Steeven is 9, my mother had him when she was 29 so she feels old compared to the other mums who are just starting out but I remind her that I am 6 years older than Steevie.

My father works in the mines as most do. I don't like the idea of him being so far underground so I try not to think about it else I start winding myself up about the fact I couldn't be able to save him or stop him from going down there in the first place because, after all, he's just doing his best at providing for his family.

Being 15 I am the only one in my family eligible to sign up for Tesserae. Our family isn't exactly wealthy but we get by. We get a meal most nights and although we live in the Seam- me and Steeven have two working parents which not all people have the privilege of. Mum's boss is also very fair- she was friends with my grandmother so they say, she treats my mother like the daughter she never had and even gives mum a few extra coins when she knows it's one of our birthdays. This year my name is in 17 times. Most years I've only gotten 3 tesserae but this year I signed up for 4 where Steeve is getting bigger- and if he's going to work in the mines, which he most probably will, I don't want it to break him. I want him to grow up strong so he'll be able to cope with it -like dad, hopefully he'll have inherited the strength and build of the previous Boistone lads.

Unlike Steeve mum's said that I could probably get a job with her at the haberdashers that she works at when I leave school because she says I've got an eye for pretty things. By the time I finish school in a few years old Ms Kammy will be able to manage even less work than now and mum is already stretched with the shifts she works now.

I know it's random but I think that people think that my father is quite boring, but he's really not- I think he's just shy. He has a banjo that has been passed down for generations - my mother says its probably worth a fortune nowadays but my dad always goes on about sentimental value whatever that means. He's really good at playing it though too, his uncle taught him when he was young and he in turn taught me, in a year or so he'll teach Steevie. I'm glad that our family have just one special tradition because for many other families traditions become luxury in times like these.


	2. Chapter 1: Reaping Day Morning

[Italics in this chapter are from Peeta's pov]

Since the reaping isn't 'til 2pm I suppose most people have a nice lay in- like it's a Sunday... but the town is always alive with a paranoid buzzing even early in the day. I drag myself out of bed, it is only 7:30. Mum and Dad are still asleep making the most of the extra couple of hours. Although he was not talking or moving I can tell that Steevy is awake. I invite him out of his and dad's bed and warm a small amount of gristly porridge that mother had made us both for today. We sit silently and eat trying not to wake our parents.

Ever since I turned 12, Steevy has been out-of-sorts on Reaping day even though he knows that he is t in for another few years. Mum didn't really time things well- by the time Steevie gets his name put in mine'll be out: putting all our reliance on tesserae onto his name just as it has been on mine. But I guess I'll be working too by then so maybe we won't need as much.

When my food is finished, which doesn't take long, I bathe- scrubbing myself red-raw trying to get the dusty grey colour off of my skin.

When I get out I notice that mum and dad have woken up and mum is now cradling Steevy telling him its going to be okay. My father catches my gaze and mouths "are you okay?" I firmly nod because I need to be strong today not just for Steeve but for them.

I go to my measly wardrobe and pick out a dress- the one I was supposed to wear last year but it was too big. I put it on only to find that it barely fits me now either. I pull my socks on over my knees and pull on some nice, baby blue shoes before going to find my mother to do my hair.

She always makes me let her do my hair, it's her favourite thing in the world, hair, and just about the only thing she likes about the Reaping day. When I walk into the room my father whistles- what he calls a "wolf whistle"... I don't know why. Mum turns around to see me. "Oh Violet, that dress is far too small now," She says pulling at it's sides "How did you even walk over here? Ah, I'll grab you something else. Come on." And with that mum walks me to her wardrobe and I know what's coming. "Go put this on." It's her favourite dress. I struggle out of the old dress and slip on the new one. I change my socks to shorter grey ones and put my shoes on again before walking back into the room for the verdict and to ask my mother to do my hair again. "Wow- you look beautiful darling." She said happily. "Now for that hair."

My hair is a strange colour. It's halfway between flaxen blonde and ash brown and my eyes are a deep chocolate courtesy of my father's side who all have the same dark brown eyes. Altogether, I don't really look like I'm from the Seam but I do so I guess it doesn't matter.

This year my mother has outdone herself. She left my side fringe down with a single French braid on each side of my head leading down into a bun at the middle of the back of my head- and it only took her minutes- she has such skilled hands, you can tell why Ms Kammy employed her.

Somehow, time has flown and it was already almost 10:15. The shops wouldn't be open much longer and on Reaping day as a preparation of the feast we are supposed to have me and my mother usually head into town together to get some proper bread from the bakery and some trimmings from the hob and greengrocers. If you go any later than 12 all the good stuff is gone and people begin to close up shop. Older people tend to be nicer to you on Reaping day too: "accidentally" give you an extra coin or two in your change and offer a sad smile if condolence. My mother picked up her old satchel and gestured towards the door. I grabbed a cardigan and we left the house.

The streets are always empty to a certain degree today. A few people still getting ready on their porches or patiently waiting for their best clothes to dry in the breeze. Others act indifferently or are just trying to take their mind off things.

Steevy's best friends consist of: Jeremy, who is also nine; and his brother Thomas, who has just turned 12 this year. It's their family's first time having to deal with it so I can understand why Jeremy and Thom are playing on the porch to distract themselves as we pass.

"Hello Jeremy, hi Thom" my mother says as we walk pass.

"Hello Mrs Boistone" they reply in chorus- they spend so much time together they are literally in sync.

"Hello Violet" notes Thom. I smile back.

"We'll meet you at the reaping Jeremy- me and Steevy - yeah?" My mum asks.

"Sure Mrs Boistone" answers Jeremy.

"Call me Marya, you've known me **over** 6 years now!"

"Okay."

"Goodbye Boys" my mum says sweetly.

"Bye" I smile and wave at the as we walk away.

We got into town and it was the same mix between derelict and booming as usual on today. We went to the bakery first. Whilst my mother decided about bread with the main baker I admired the cookies that had been decorated so colourfully and perfectly.

"Can I help you?" Says a kind voice. I look up to see a boy about my age tying on an apron as he walks towards me.

"Oh, er... no" I answer as I realise he is talking to me. "My mum is just buying some bread"

"Oh" he smiles "I see."

"I'm just admiring the cookies- they're beautiful"

"Really?" He asks lightheartedly.

"Uh-ha" I answer.

"Thanks."

"Did **you** do these?"

"Uh-ha" he copies.

"Wow..."

"Come on Violet..." I turn to see my mother walking towards the door.

"Violet" he says my name as if to remember it.

"Ah-ha, you are?"

"Peeta- I'll probably see you at the reaping."

"Yeah."

"Bye"

"Bye" I smiled before I followed my mother out of the door.

"_Do you recognise her?" I ask my dad. _

_"She comes here every year with her mother today, I guess to get bread for the feast." my father answers._

_"I mean- where does she live? I haven't seen her around here but... she doesn't look like she's from the Seam." _

_"I think she is, son." My father admits. "But she __**is**__ beautiful if its any consolation."_

_"Thanks dad." I reply deep in thought about this girl._


	3. Chapter 2: The Reaping

"Shall we go to the Hob?" Mother asked me. "Sure" I answered.

We walked into the dingy market place to see that it was less alive than usual. First we went over to the girl with the strawberries and game, everyone knows that she goes into the forest but she's so good at hunting and most people I know might've starved to death by now if it wasn't for her and her friend. I'm not sure what her name is - I hear Gale call her Catnip but surely that's got to be a nickname. The only reason I know Gale's name is because about 90% of girls at my school are madly in love with him and almost feint when he walks past.

We bought some strawberries off of her. She's really pretty when she smiles although she rarely does.

Apart from "Catnip" and Gale I was the only young person in the building at the time- we got the majority of the goods that we wanted quite cheaply when I offered the sellers a mournful glare. We had a bit of money left over so my mum ordered me to go back and get some salt and paraffin while we were here and had the money. As I placed the cubes in the mans hand to get them wrapped up I heart a voice behind me.

"Pretty Dress."

I looked around to see if it was directed at me. Gale was standing beside me buying fuel too. He smiled gently as I looked up at him.

"Thank you." I said with a touch of uncertainty, he might not have even been talking to me.

"You're welcome... Good luck." He added.

"You too." I replied as the man handed me back the paraffin wrapped in paper. I handed him the coin and walked briskly over to my mother who was waiting by the entrance.

"It's amazing what a dress can do." She said amusedly.

"What?" I asked, innocent.

"Well... You really think Mr Mellark's son just spoke to you because you were looking at his cookies?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Even that young man said it was a pretty dress."

We continued walking and the talking halted into an awkward silence.

By the time we got home it was almost 1 o'clock. We sat down together as a family and all ate a small amount of bread before the sirens went off. I let out a sigh. We grabbed our overcoats and began walking towards the square.

A feeling of uneasiness came over me as we drew closer and closer to the Justice Hall. My mum could see that I was getting anxious.

"You'll be fine." She told me reassuringly.

Steeve noticed Jeremy walk over with his mum and brother so we joined them. Thom was feeling really nervous but I told him it was all going to be okay and that the chances were so slim he didn't need to worry. We said goodbye to our families to queue for the blood samples. He went to the boys' line and I went to the girls. My finger was pricked and scanned and I was sent off into somewhere near the middle of the clump of young females.

It all went silent and a flamboyantly dressed woman with bright sea green hair mounted the stage with the mayor, other officials and Haymitch- district 12's mentor.

"Welcome, welcome to the 73rd annual Hunger Games" she trilled in her unbelievable accent, "and, may the odds be EVER in your favour. But first here's a short film for you all the way from the Capitol!"

"War, terrible war" the tape began. It had been the same all the years I'd seen it. "A widow, an orphan, a motherless child. This was the rebellion that rocked our land." The tape went on and by the end the woman from the Capitol was mouthing the words.

"Wasn't that just wonderful?" She asked sincerely once it had ended, smiling vividly and unfittingly at her surroundings.

"And now for the names. As always- ladies first!"

Why did she always say that? How polite, chivalrous and damn-right gentlemanly it is to sentence us to death first. She shuffled over to the ladies' dome and swirled her slight hand around it before gracefully plucking a slip from the pile and returning to the middle. She unfolded it and I could hear my heartbeat fast in my ears. She drew breath to talk and my heart stopped for a second.

"Raeanne Hawthorne"

I could finally breathe again- it was not me. It wasn't me. While I was relieved it wasn't me it meant that it was somebody else - though **my** family could relax again for another year, the pain of another's family had to start. A girl placed only a few rows ahead of me had began walking down the aisle, we all waited silently until she mounted the stage. She climbed the steps before facing the audience and all of a sudden she looked strikingly familiar. The dark brown hair, the grey-blue eyes, the olive skin and the same stern look about her angled features: she had to be related to that Gale boy. I looked around to see him looking desperately up at her and shaking his head in disbelief.

"Raeanne Hawthorne, everybody." Giggled the Capitol woman. "And now for the boys."

She went about picking the boys' the same way. Once drawn returning to centre stage and reading: "Thomas Britsbull" and this is when my heart really stopped.

"Oh my god." I thought aloud.

First year? Name in but once? The odds were so clearly in his favour- but did they seem to matter anymore? No, apparently. I looked around wondering why nobody was running to him, but then I realise that his whole family were outside the barricades. I pushed to the end of my row.

"Thomas..." I said at him "Thom!

But he didn't answer or even acknowledge my calls. He just continued walking to the front looking completely numb. A peacekeeper stepped in front of me and I didn't persist.

"Raeanne and Thom" presented the Capitol woman cheerily before ushering them through the huge doors of the Justice Hall. Then we were allowed to leave.


	4. Chapter 3: Reaping Day Mourning

I found my mother and we were told that Thomas' mother had allowed us to take the second nonfamily timeslot to say goodbye and good luck. We followed a peacekeeper into the justice hall and waited by double doors. The corridor was large and seemed to have two rooms at the end where we were waiting - one for the female tribute and one for the male. Thomas' family went in and we as the guest party were offered seats in a small room at the side of the hallway. We entered to see that Gale was sat there alone.

He looked up at the sound of our entry. My mother and brother didn't even acknowledge him but I gave him a sad smile as I sat down between him and my mum who was occupied telling Steevie it was okay. Steeve had already set our mother off crying and I too were finding it hard not to cry. "He was so young - how old was he? 13?" Gale said clearly trying to distract himself from the fate of his cousin. "12, first year. I don't even think he signed up for any tesserae." I replied sadly. "God." He said mournfully in response.

"He's going to come back right?" Said my brother to our mum in between his sobs. "I don't know..." She told him honestly.

That was when I started to cry. "Shhshhshh..." Gale said soothingly as he put his arm around my shoulder. "Don't cry - you need to be strong for him."

"Oh god- I know, it's just half an hour ago I as good as promised him it wouldn't be him and look. At it now." I wept.

"I know, I know. It's fine," he whispered to me, "we're fine."

The door swung open violently. "Guest parties?" Said a peacekeeper urging us out of the room. I got up and Gale's arms fell back to his sides. We walked out of the room and he attempted a smile.

"Thomas is this way, sir." The peacekeeper said to Gale when he began to walk to the other door.

"I'm here for Raeanne."

"Oh- okay, sir."

We walked into the room and the huge, luxurious wooden doors were close firmly behind us. Steevie ran towards Thomas. "I'm going to miss you." He choked.

"I'm so sorry Thom." I admitted as I walked towards the ornate velvet sofa he was sitting on.

"It's not your fault, Violet." His words soothed me but they seemed out of place. A 12 year old saying that to someone with 16 more slips of paper in the bowl.

"No- I promised you - I told you you weren't going," I sobbed in frustration. "I'm sorry." I said pathetically. He opened his tiny arms to invite me to sit down, he hasn't even grown up yet and he was being punished this way. I sat down next to him. He was such a slight thing: his bony knees and skinny calves poking out of his shorts like twigs and his ill fitting over jumper made him look smothered, somehow even smaller and delicate. No not delicate: breakable.

"We'll be praying for you." Said our mother quietly. Prayers- what do they do in a situation like this? Nothing. The most basic form of sentimentality.

"Thanks." Thom said weakly.

"That's it I am afraid." Said a peacekeeper as she opened the door.

"Bye." Said Steeve.

"Goodbye." My mum said quietly.

"Do your best," I told him hopefully, "if they can't find you: they can't kill you." I squeezed in before they shut the door behind us and any reply he might of given was now heard by the walls alone.

Thom's family had waited for us, unlike Raeanne's for Gale. He exited the room looking disheveled, a peacekeeper walked swiftly past.

"Cray, cray." He said to the peacekeeper. "Tell her I'm sorry."

The peacekeeper nodded as Gale left without hesitation. "Cray" poked his head round the door of the female tribute's waiting room. I couldn't hear what he said.

"Violet?!" My mother called when she'd seen that I hadn't followed.

"Sorry mother!" I called back as I walked back to her quickly.

We walked home barely talking and when we got home dad was sitting down in the main room. He beamed when he saw me - he'd barely been mobile since he fell in the mines the previous week. "Hey guys." He said cheerily struggling up out of his chair. "What's- who was it?" He asked in acknowledgement to the dark aura.

"Thomas." Steevie began to cry.


	5. Chapter 4: Reaping Night

"Oh god. How's Susan?" My father asked.

"I don't know-" my mum replied. They'd never been close our mums but our fathers used to know each other quite well.

"I just really didn't know what to say" she explained "nobody expected that, not that we weren't all scared out of our minds for him- poor dear." I sighed at her words.

"What?" She asked.

"It's just the fact that there is nothing we can do for him at all."

My mother smiled mournfully at me in attempt to console me.

"At all." I repeated to myself.

"Well, at least we'll eat well tonight." My dad said sweetly, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm not hungry anymore." complained Steeve.

"Neither am I." I agreed.

I walked in our bedroom, slumped on the bed and curled into foetal position. After a while I fell asleep and only awoke when the sky had began to darken.

"Violet come have some food with us," called my mother when she saw I was awake "we waited but you were asleep for so long."

"It's okay." I said as I pulled a chair to the table. My mother pushed the plate of fluffy towards me and offered me some cheese and a drink. She poured me a cup as my mind wondered back to the boy from the bakery - Peeta was it? I thought of how he might've made the bread and how delicious and good it was and how this sweet, delicious loaf makes our bread dastardly in comparison.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" My mother asked me clearly noticing me deep in thought.

"Ah-ha."

"Would you like some strawberries?" Asked my father.

"Yes please." He passed me a few and I delved into the depths of their fleshy sweetness.

You could tell that this was a feast. Strawberries alone are among the vast list of tropical luxuries in district 12 yet I often wonder whether such fruits are common or perhaps even cheap in places like maybe 11 where they grow fruit and vegetables. I suppose bread will always be a staple because of the tesserae grain though you could tell by this bread this was an occasion- for a normal dinner we would barely have even this amount of unrisen bread and if we were lucky we might have only a fraction of the fresh meat we have here today.

We all ate quietly - even with a beautifully cooked and arranged meal in front of you it's hard to forget that a child you consider to be family has just been out on a death sentence.

"Thank you mum." I said honestly.

"Yes mum, it was a lovely meal." Steevie repeated in reverence - he always did love his food which isn't a rarity in someplace like this.

I kissed my mother's cheek and hugged my father goodnight then got myself some water for bed. I changed out of my lovely reaping dress, which was now only a reminder of Thomas' departure, and pulled on a nightdress. I slumped into me and my mother's bed and draped the covers loosely over me. It didn't take long for sleep to pull me under again. That night was dreamless to my surprise: maybe my subconscious realised that I needed to become immune, somewhat numb, toward this Games since Thom had been dragged into it, if not for myself then for Steevie. All I was sure of was that I was thankful for the thoughtless sleep because the real nightmare of Thom's struggle was yet to come.


End file.
